


Beginnings

by Elizabeth Lowry (Suz)



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 06:33:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suz/pseuds/Elizabeth%20Lowry





	Beginnings

**BEGINNINGS**

 

He wasn't sure how long she'd been surreptitiously watching him, although he'd been surreptitiously watching her since he'd glimpsed her in front of the jigsaw puzzles. He'd played a sort of cat and mouse game for a time; wandering up and down the different toy aisles, fingering a stuffed animal here, checking out the latest board game there, always aware of where she was and what she was looking at. And also aware that she knew he was close by. In fact, he could almost imagine she was enjoying this little game. She had, after all, given him a wonderfully bright smile in front of the hula hoops.

His attention was finally diverted by the model train display, and he squatted in front of the smudged glass case to look at the new cars recently set out. It was several minutes later before he realized he was being studied. He glanced to his right, and caught her eye as she hastily turned back to the doll display. He quickly averted his eyes and returned his attention to the trains, a slight blush skimming his cheeks.

"Do you like trains?"   A shimmering voice from off to his left caught him off guard. Starsky turned to see who was speaking. At the end of the display case he spotted a pair of skin-tight jeans and dirty-white Keds. When he looked a little higher, a sweatshirt proclaimed the prosperity of USC. A little higher still, and chestnut hair framed a face that smiled as though she knew a secret about him. "You've been staring at those trains for quite a while."

Starsky rose, his eyes locked to hers. He rubbed his hands along his thighs, mesmerized by the lady's smile. He finally remembered she'd asked him a question. "Uh, yes." 

"Are you a collector?" She took two steps closer to him, her arm resting on the glass top, her body casually leaning against the display case, her head titled in curiosity.

Starsky nodded his head and grinned. "Yeah." He stuffed his hands in his pocket. 

She took another step forward. "Since you were little boy, I'll bet." 

"Yeah!" Starsky grinned a little wider. 

"Lionel?" She was now two feet away from him.

"Lionel?" Starsky repeated, confused. He jerked his hands out of his pockets. "Oh, Lionel!" She meant the trains, not his name. "Yeah! They're the best!" His hands flew up as he began describing his collection with excited gestures. "My father had the greatest train set when I was a kid!" He could see the detail of each individual car, could feel their shape and weight in his hands, could trace their journey over the elaborate course. "Papa built this incredible track that went all over the basement floor, and he made all these miniatures to go with it and we used to--" he stopped, suddenly embarrassed at his outpouring of enthusiasm and emotion.

She laughed. Pure gossamer. "And your father gave it to you?"

"Papa--" Several memories presented themselves, time spent in a storage basement with a man who spent hours and days and years carefully explaining each and every detail of an incredible fantasy world. Starsky swallowed and looked away. "Papa meant it for me."

"That's lovely," she closed the distance between them, turning to lean over the glass. "Which one are you longing for?" She traced a figure eight on the glass.

Starsky took a moment to study the highlights in her hair. Gold streaks intertwined with chestnut brown. "That one," he positioned a finger over a silver car.

"The tanker?" Her finger skated next to his.

"The tanker," he confirmed. 

"Are you going to buy it?" she looked up at him.

Starsky removed his finger from the counter top. He shrugged. "I think I'm just looking today."

"Oh." She straightened. "What about that teddy bear over there?" She tossed her head in the direction of the stuffed animals.

Starsky looked back at the animals. He felt his cheeks grow warm. "Teddy bear?" He played the innocent.

She ignored his act, grabbed his arm, and pulled him over to a far shelf. "This one." She picked up a white bear and showed it to him. "Wasn't this the one you were looking at?" Her eyes danced with delight. 

Starsky took the bear. He didn't answer, instead merely hefting the animal in his hands. It felt both soft and strong, and he'd been particularly taken with its long legs and arms.

"I think he's cute," she continued to tease. "Who were you thinking of when you singled him out?" She reached over and ran a slender finger over the bear's snout. Her nails were small, white, and daintily shaped.

He shrugged. "Oh, I don't know." He looked at her. She met his eyes with a look of playfulness. He debated over their color. Blue, or blue-green? They seemed iridescent.

"A son or daughter?" she asked.

Starsky smiled. "No."

She pursed her lips in thought. She wore no lipstick, but she didn't really need any, he mused. "Niece? Nephew?" she persisted.

Starsky shook his head. "Don't have any of those, either."

She took the bear from his hands, looked at it thoughtfully, then held it up in front of her face. "Girlfriend?"

Starsky arched an eyebrow. She was asking more than just who the bear was for. He smiled. "No."

She sighed, pondering the bear in her hands. She was biting her lip in an effort to keep from smiling. "For your train collection, then?" She looked up at him, barely able to conceal her delight.

"Not for me, either." Starsky took the bear back, running his thumbs up and down the soft fur. He avoided her eyes, playing it cool and aloof.

"Then I give up." She took a step back and folded her arms in mock seriousness. Starsky felt the loss of her body heat. "You're just going to have to tell me."

Starsky thought a moment, then decided. "My partner."

Her smile faded a bit and her eyes held a touch of confusion. He'd caught her by surprise, he surmised; she probably thought he'd say "for you."

"Your partner?" She dropped her arms, and stuffed her hands in her jeans' pockets. 

Starsky studied the bear. Two jet black button eyes dared him to take a chance. "Yeah." He smiled, satisfied with his assessment of both the bear and the lady. "My partner. This guy reminds me of my partner." He looked over at her, anxious to see her reaction.

"I think I'd like to meet your partner, if this is what he's like," she said a little uncertainly. She reached out to stroke the bear's head.

Starsky stifled the impulse to offer to introduce them. Instead, he decided to keep his secret unshared for a little while longer. "Now it's my turn." He hugged the bear to his chest and cocked his head, a look of satisfaction in his eyes. "What were you doing looking at the hula hoops?"

She started down the aisle, toward the cap containing the hoops. "How do you think I keep my girlish figure?" She stopped in front of the display, running a hand around one of the plastic toys.

Starsky ambled up next to her, still clutching the bear. "It works," he complimented, eyeing her figure. He was pleased with the success of his remark. He'd finally made her blush.

She lifted one of the circles from the box and held it between them. A light blush continued to grace her cheeks. "I work with exceptional children," she explained. "For some of them, learning how to work this thing can be a great help with their coordination, and a great boost to their self-esteem." She rattled the hoop a bit.

"Same with the puzzles?" Starsky asked.

She started to say something, looked at him slyly, then answered. "Same with the puzzles. Helps with eye-hand coordination, fine motor skills, stuff like that."

"Stuff like that," Starsky echoed, grinning. "I think you must like your work very much," he surmised. "You look very happy when you talk about it."

She smiled. "I do," she answered simply.

"And it gives you a great opportunity to play with toys, too, I'll bet." Starsky sobered momentarily. "Professionally, of course."

"Of course," she agreed, mimicking his seriousness. "But I'll tell you what," she drew close to him, whispering conspiratorially. "If you won't ask me what I wanted with the Play-Doh, I won't ask you what you wanted with the Legos."

Starsky inhaled her perfume. Channel. "Deal." He tucked the bear under one arm, offering her his hand.

She took it, responding with a firm grasp. She didn't seem particularly anxious to let go, and he certainly wasn't. Their eyes locked, and they remained silent for a moment.

"I'm Terry." She finally broke the silence.

"David," he responded. Starsky finally withdrew his hand, shifting the teddy bear into an embrace. "Could I--" he squeezed the bear tighter for confidence. "Could I call you?" He held his breath.

"Got a piece of paper?" Terry answered without hesitation. 

Starsky's eyes widened in surprise, then dismay. He hastily slipped the bear into the crook of his arm and patted down his jacket. Finding nothing, he pushed the bear into Terry's arms and began searching his pockets for paper and pencil. He noticed her smiling sympathetically as he fumbled, and quickened his search. He finally located a pencil stub and a crumpled business card. Starsky held them up triumphantly.

Terry exchanged the bear for the card and pencil. She flipped the card over to see what was printed on it.

"Oh," she murmured, frowning. "You really did mean 'partner'."

Starsky felt disappointment well within him. He tried to keep his expression as matter-of-fact as possible. While he'd never felt ashamed of his profession, he wished it hadn't revealed itself quite so soon. So many new acquaintances immediately typed him upon learning his career choice. Good, bad, crazy, stupid, brutish; everyone had a cop-imagine tucked away in their minds. He squared his shoulders mentally. "Does it matter?"

"I don't know, does it?" Terry met his eyes. They seemed to be searching for more than just an answer. He thought they just might be searching for a future. He searched, too, not only her eyes, but his own soul.

"No."

Terry accepted his decision. "The top is my work number," she wrote, "and the bottom is my home number." She handed him the card and the pencil. "We work in shifts at the center. Sometimes I work during the day, sometimes at night."

"Me, too." Starsky tucked the card into the safety of his breast pocket. "Where will you be tonight?"

She smiled. "Home."

"Me, too." Starsky returned the smile. "Could I call you tonight?"

"If you're not too busy with your trains," she replied. He laughed at her quick grasp of his personality.   They stood and looked at each other a minute more. Usually he was bowled over by beauty, found himself craving it, coveting it, wanting it for his pleasure. This time he found himself comfortable and patient, excited but not desperate, more than willing to wait for what should come. It was a rare feeling. It was nice.

"Well," she looked down at her tennis shoes. "Are you buying?"

Starsky pulled himself back to reality. "You?"

She shook her head. "Not today. I was just looking." She continued to study her shoes.

"I guess you didn't find what you were looking for."

Her face rose to meet his, a gentle blush giving color to her smooth skin. "Oh, I don't know about that," she said. Her eyes smiled shyly, but he knew what she meant. "I have to go," she motioned toward the front of the store.

"I'll call you tonight," Starsky promised.

"I'll be home." She took a few backward steps, hesitated, then turned and left. Starsky followed her to the top of the aisle, then leaned against the shelf to watch her go. He was sure there was an extra bounce to her step. As she pulled open the front door she paused and turned, smiling back at him. He lifted the bear's arm and wiggled it. She returned the wave.

"Can I help you, Sergeant?" The owner of the store appeared from the back room. For some reason he seemed very pleased with himself.

Starsky straightened and turned toward the older man. "Yeah." He held up the bear approvingly. "You can ring this up for me, Mr. Cohen." He handed the owner the stuffed animal.

Mr. Cohen's eyes twinkled. "Will that be all for you today? You know we got in those new train cars. That tanker you've been waiting for is one of them."

"Not today, This'll be all." Starsky followed Mr. Cohen to the register. "Could you--wrap that?" he asked, pulling bills from his wallet.

Mr. Cohen measured the bear with his eyes. "I don't have any boxes big enough, but I could tie a ribbon around his neck."

Starsky placed the bills on the counter. "Terrific. Thanks, Mr. Cohen."

"No problem, Sergeant." Mr. Cohen took the bills, made change, and picked up the bear. "I'll be right back with him." Mr. Cohen smiled as though he had secret knowledge of where the bear was going and disappeared into the back.

Starsky slipped the change in his pocket. "No hurry," he said, more to himself than Mr. Cohen. "I've got all the time in the world."

 

[Another in the "Starsky's Ladies" series]

 


End file.
